


say that you love me

by kahlen369



Category: K-pop, RPF - Fandom, SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst and Fluff and Smut, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, Sewing, Skipping Class, Sporty!Minho, Vain!Key
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 03:50:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8386102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kahlen369/pseuds/kahlen369
Summary: When an impulsive action changes the dynamics of their friendship forever, Minho is forced to confront the feelings he's always denied. But does Key feel the same way?AkaMinho sort of accidentally tries to rip the clothes off Key, and they struggle with the results. Well, mostly Minho struggles. To understand Key, his feelings, and how to sew. Because, of course, Key's continued affection depends on his ability to sew.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a friend. I'm not actually a huge fan myself, so apologies for any OOCness or inaccuracies. But hey, it's an AU anyway.

 

They were running late. _Again._

 

At this point, Minho wasn’t even sure why he was surprised. This seemed to happen every time. Even so, he frowned at the classroom door, as though the power of his gaze might be enough to cause Key to burst out any moment, ready for PE as he was. _He_ was already dressed in his gym clothes and carrying a soccer ball that he was idly bouncing around in his hands, after all.

 

Unfortunately, nothing happened, and the minutes continued to tick by, with his best friend still inside, supposedly changing, even after everyone else in class had already finished and left for the gym.

 

Unlike Key, Minho had been one of the first out the door, hoping that waiting outside for his friend, and not inside like usual, might spur the other boy into action. Clearly, that had been a wasted hope. Instead, all that changed was that he could not even glare at the boy who was causing him such trouble. The door was a poor substitute for his anger, he found out.

 

Sighing in frustration, he bounced the soccer ball in his hands a little higher, debating the wisdom of throwing it against the door. He told himself it would be pointless, because he would only get in trouble for it, and Key probably still wouldn’t be done. Finally, after a few more bounces came dangerously close to hitting the door anyway, Minho decided he should just go inside and bother Key into finishing up. If that failed, maybe he would just take off the other boy’s clothes himself.

 

That thought sent heat across his body, until he was blushing in embarrassment and something else. He quickly banished it from his thoughts though, as he swung the door open and found an entirely different reason for him to flush.

 

“Are you _seriously_ checking yourself in the mirror right now?” Minho asked incredulously, voice echoing loudly in the empty classroom

 

Not bothering to take his eyes off his reflection, Key replied airily, “Not all of us can pull off your effortless windswept look, Min.”

 

Gritting his teeth, Minho pointedly ignored the way his heart clenched at the compliment, instead stalking closer to the other boy. Even when he was only a few feet away, his friend did not bother looking up. That was his mistake, because Minho used the opportunity to snatch the mirror away from him.

 

“ _Hey!_ ” Key exclaimed in surprise.  

 

“Get dressed already!” Minho gestured frustratedly at the school uniform still on him.  “We’re already late to PE. _Again_.”

 

“Well, if we’re already late anyway, what’s the point of hurrying?” The other boy reasoned, as he eyed his stolen mirror with a pout.

 

Minho resisted the urge to strangle his best friend. “The point is, I won’t hit you with this soccer ball!” He already had it raised and ready, to prove his point. Death by ball was kinder than strangulation, at least, right? He could give Key that much.

 

Unfortunately, his threat proved to not be as effective as he hoped. Pouting harder, Key’s voice took on a whine as he argued, “Let’s just skip PE!”

 

“ _No!_ ” Minho shot back immediately. “Just change into your gym clothes already!”

 

Key was stubborn though. “No.” He replied equally firmly, as he crossed his arms. Just to complete the childish picture, he stuck out his tongue and dared, “ _Make me._ ”

 

That was the final straw. Minho snapped. Moving forward with sudden speed, he took Key by surprise as he roughly tugged at the polo shirt he was wearing. Unable to fight back, Key instinctively rose his arms and allowed the other boy to pull hard enough to unbutton his shirt in one harsh movement.

 

“ _Min!_ ” He shouted in protest. But it was too late. Minho was a man on a mission, and he did not stop until he also had the undershirt half tugged off. It was only when he started to pull off the pants too that Key managed to push him away. “ _Stop!_ ”

 

Minho came to his senses in a daze. He was breathing hard, like he’d just ran a marathon, but Key was the one who looked worse for the wear. His polo shirt was open and missing a few buttons, while his undershirt was lifted up to the point where he could see the abs that showed dancing was just as effective as any sport when it came to bodybuilding. His pants loose, unbuttoned and fly down, and Minho could see that the other boy was wearing blue boxers today.

 

The sight of his best friend partially undressed like this, in a way that called to mind less innocent scenarios, caused his mind to grow slightly hazy and made his heart race, as he found himself breathing hard for entirely different reasons.

 

The two of them had been friends forever, long enough that neither of them could really recall a time without the other. They were practically brothers, as their families liked to joke whenever one stayed over at the other’s. That had seemed like an accurate summary of their relationship for a long time. But lately, it did not seem like enough.

 

“Brothers” didn’t cover the way his heart seemed to beat faster when the other boy was closer or the way he seemed to get an electric shock any time they made skin contact. It didn’t fit with the dreams that made him jolt awake, half-hard.

 

It didn’t fit now, with the way he could not quite keep his eyes off the exposed flesh before him. Minho had always loved Key, that had never been in doubt. But he realized that it was not like a brother, as he had always thought. No, in fact, Minho didn’t just love Key. He was _in_ love with him.

 

The reminder of his unrequited feelings was enough to force him out of his stupor and make him look away. Running his hand through his hair, Minho sighed roughly. His gaze landed on the soccer ball that had fallen underneath one of the chairs, forgotten when he’d decided to attack Key. Fists clenching briefly, he quickly walked over to pick it up.

 

When the ball was in his hands, Minho spoke, with forced calm, “I’m going to go ahead first.” He did not turn around to look at other boy, did not wait for an answer, as he headed for the door in a rush.

 

The walk to the gym didn’t clear his mind as much as Minho hoped. When he finally made it to class, it was in the middle of a soccer game, which he was quickly forced into joining. He tried to forget everything about Key as he lost himself in the match instead. But he had not been able to help looking to the stands any time there was a lull in the game. Key was nowhere to be seen though.

 

He didn’t show up for PE at all.

 

When they returned to the classroom, Minho found Key sitting at his desk, still dressed in his school uniform, and looking immaculate as always. He had a mirror in his hand, and he did not look at Minho at all.

 

Though he wanted to say something, Minho could not push past the sudden lump in his throat. Instead, he silently made his way to his seat, just behind Key. As he did so, he saw that the mirror in his friend’s hand had a crack running along one side.

 

Eyes widening in surprise, he quickly realized that he must have also dropped the mirror that had been in his hands when he’d tried to forcefully undress the other boy earlier. The guilt in his heart deepened, and an apology sat on his tongue. But he couldn’t open his mouth.

 

Not when he could see Key’s expression in the mirror’s reflection.

 

So, Minho kept his silence, and forced his eyes onto his notebook for the rest of the day instead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the end lf the day, Minho is willing to do just about anything for Key.

When the bell finally rang signalling the end of class, all Minho wanted to do was rush out the door and go home, forgetting this day ever even happened. But Key stayed seated in place, not moving an inch, so Minho remained as well. He owed him _that_ much, he thought, guilt stabbing into his heart again. Still, his leg twitched restless under the table, and he could not stop himself from flitting his eyes around the room, going back to the door more times than he could count.

The rest of the class quickly filtered out, the students all eager to go home, and soon, it was completely empty save for the two of them. Though the afternoon light filtering through the windows cast a yellowish light over everything, it was still a little too much like the situation during PE class. Minho was regretting his decision to stay already, and the way Key was keeping determinedly silent was not making him feel any better.

How much of a coward would he be if he ran away right now?

Minho glanced at the door again, desperately wishing he could go through it. But when he looked back towards Key, he knew he _couldn’t_.. His best friend remained silent, but he was shifting through his bag now, seemingly looking for something. Minho frowned, curiosity prickling at him, but recent events kept the questions from coming out.

Finally, he seemed to find what he was looking for, before he stopped, taking out a small blue plastic box. Blinking confusedly, he wondered what it was, when Key suddenly turned around to face him. Startled, Minho flinched back, nearly falling out of his chair in the process. Normally, such a clumsy action from someone with his athletic grace would draw a laugh or a teasing remark. But now, there was _nothing_.

That hurt a lot more than the faint bruise that was forming on his lower back thanks to his careless actions. Minho was determined not to show it though. Locking eyes with the other boy, he nearly faltered when he saw how unreadable they were. The usual warmth, affection and amusement were all gone. It was the eyes of a stranger on his best friend’s face, and Minho nearly let out a cry of dismay.

Then, Key spoke, “ _Here_.” The blunt words revealed nothing, and the cool tone was another slap to his face, but he tried to ignore it, looking instead at the offered item.

Unfortunately, that didn’t help with the confusion. Frowning, he stared for the moment at the small box in his friend’s hands, not quite sure what it was supposed to be, since there was no label and Key was remaining silent. He wouldn’t give him something dangerous, would he? Minho knew his best friend wouldn’t, but he had no frame of reference for this virtual stranger in front of him.

Picking it up hesitantly, he asked, “What is it?”

Looking at him with that same unreadable look, Key said simply, “It’s a sewing kit.”

Before Minho could even wrap his mind around this revelation and what it meant, he was quickly distracted from his thoughts by the sight of Key taking off his shirt.

“ _What’re you doing?!_ ” Minho cried out in shock, now convinced he was dreaming, because there was no way this was happening for real-- _right?_

The other boy ignored his reaction, continuing to unbutton his polo--what few buttons were left, anyway---as though it were a perfectly ordinary, everyday thing to do. He always thought his best friend was just a little out there, but this was insane. With the desperation of a drowning man, Minho plead, “ _Key!?”_

Instead of offering an explanation, the other boy only ignored him again, swiftly making work of the remaining buttons on his shirt, before he casually shrugged it off him. Despite himself, Minho was completely riveted to the sight, a familiar heat growing inside him as he watched. It was a good thing Key wasn’t even listening to him, because his throat was too dry to speak now.

Once his friend had the shirt in his hands, however, instead of working off the undershirt next, he merely thrust the polo in Minho’s direction. Still caught in a stupor from the impromptu strip show, the poor boy could only look dumbly at the proffered item.

“Some buttons came off.” Key spoke into the silence, breaking Minho’s stalemate with the shirt as he brought his eyes back up to his friend. “Sew it back on.”

  
It took entirely too long for Minho’s still stuttering brain to make the required connections. When the realization finally struck him, he comically whipped his gaze back and forth between the small box he’d been handed and the shirt that Key was now offering. “ _Oohh_..." He breathed out in surprise, too stunned by the unexpected request to know how he felt about it yet.

With that, Key firmly placed the shirt in Minho’s hands, even wrapping his fingers around the item to make sure he wouldn’t drop it. The unexpected contact was a shock to Min’s system and he nearly dropped the shirt anyway, but just managed to stop himself.

Instead, after taking a deep breath, he managed to mostly calmly say, “You know I can’t sew for _shit_ , right?”

It was true. Between them, it was Key who had even a modicum of talent for the task. Hence, the sewing kit readily available in the boy’s school bag. His best friend could easily do a much better--and likely faster--job than he ever could.

“ _Learn_.” Key said bluntly, but there was the faintest twitch to his lips, and it gave Min hope. “It’s not that hard.”

Minho nodded along, though he doubted they were true for him. Frankly, he would probably be up all night trying to figure it out, and even then, his results would probably be barely passable. But that was the point, was it? This was his fault, after all. Minho would stay up all night every night learning every stitch there was to learn if it meant Key forgave him.

“Okay,” he breathed, staring deep into his friend’s eyes. “I’ll do it.”

At his answer, there was just the slightest change in those eyes. The rest of his expression remained closed and determinedly neutral, but for a flicker of a moment, he saw Key’s eyes again. That was enough. Hope sparked in his chest and he could not stop himself from grinning like an idiot for a moment. The faintest twitch of lips on the other boy’s face before he managed to control himself only made him grin wider.

Not acknowledging the grin on Minho’s face, Key commanded firmly, “Give it to me tomorrow morning before class.”

A sarcastic remark was on the tip of Minho’s tongue. _You, really?_ This was the boy who was perennially late for everything, after all. It was likely that Minho would show up early only to find Key nowhere to be seen until well after class already started. As always.

Recent circumstances had him holding his tongue though, and he only nodded in confirmation. With a confidence that was only partly faked, he promised, “I’ll be there.”

Key only nodded slightly, before saying, “See you tomorrow, then.”

That seemed to be enough for him, because without any other words, he finally stood up and began to head for the door, presumably to head home. He frowned a little at the sight. They usually left together, only separating on the train when they absolutely had to, as they lived in opposite directions.

Quickly shoving the shirt and sewing kit into his back, he got up to follow after his friend on instinct. Thanks to his athleticism, it took no time to catch up, but he forced himself to stop when he was only a few feet away, fists clenching at his side as he watched Key’s back walk away from him. His parting words were clearly meant to be a goodbye, a pointed directive for Minho not to go with him.

So, even though he wanted to do nothing more than jog the last few feet towards his friend, he turned around instead. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he swiftly made his way towards an alternative route to the station. It was an unfamiliar one, and he was almost glad for the distraction of needing to find his way around because it kept his mind off Key. Or so he told himself.

In truth, even as he busied his mind with street names and directions, part of him could not stop thinking of Key--- _stripping off his shirt---looking so cold---walking away from him---_

They continued to flash through his mind on an endless loop. _So this is what they mean,_ he thought, _when they say love hurts._


End file.
